


The eye of Storybrooke's storm (Henry is not dumb)

by RockingMySocks



Series: Magic box [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Angst, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, F/F, POV Henry, Pre-Relationship, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 09:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20543822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockingMySocks/pseuds/RockingMySocks
Summary: What Henry had left behind was not a family, but he knew they were capable of creating one.Inspired by the random prompt: characters boy + family, theme love, settings school + city.Personal choice: Swan Queen, Henry's POV.Set after Robin and Hook enter the picture, but they are still on probation, so to speak. There is no CS or QO in any way, shape or form, though, don't worry.





	The eye of Storybrooke's storm (Henry is not dumb)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I haven't really been connecting with my previous fics, so, while I am unsure about whether or not I will continue writing any of them, I wanted to get back into it. And so my magic box with random words was the solution I came up with to force myself to think and write again. This series will be made out of one-shots with different pairings and themes randomly picked.

What Henry left behind was not a family. He was not blind, he was not dumb, he could read people better than most adults gave him credit for and so, he knew: it was not a family.

In all his books families loved each other, but his was not like that. They loved some, and tolerated the rest for Henry's sake.

Emma still stared at Regina, his other mother -although, maybe Emma was his other mother? Did any of them need to be the "other mother"? His grandparents sure thought so, but he was starting to have some doubts. Emma was both David's and Mary Margaret's and so, how come he could not be Emma's and Regina's? It was all very stupid if you ask him, but the only time he had mentioned such qualms had the Charmings staring at him in bewilderment, while Emma just looked away, shaking off his stare.- Going back to the point, Emma still stared at Regina, his mother, because Emma, his mother, stared at his mother -oh, god, this really needed to be solved,- with something akin to apprehension, as if expecting a curse to hit them all square in the chest the moment Regina left her sight. Regina, for her part, stood firm and intimidating, but her eyes filled with fear as if the woman could lose everything forever if she did not hold on, almost stuck in the rigidness of it all.

But hold on tight she did, hold on tight to him. She sometimes held him with such force he suffocated, something similar to what it must feel to have your heart plucked from your chest, he imagined. He was powerless to stop it, it just happened, and nothing made it better. _Anxiety_ had been the name given to it by Archie. Not that he trusted Archie much after learning his degree had just appeared out of nowhere.

It was, therefore, not a surprise when one night, as the Charmings slept and Emma "patrolled", he grabbed a few of his comics, a change of clothes, a blanket, and simply left.

To be fair, he did not go far, he was not planning on running away again, it was just a breather of sorts. He walked at 4 am through a deserted Storybrooke, his feet hitting the ground tentatively at first, scared that at any point Granny would just turn up, point her crossbow at him and lead him right back to the tiny loft, where he could count himself lucky if no one brushed their teeth while he was trying to shower. Privacy was not a thing in the Enchanted Forest, or in Foster Care for that matter, it seemed. Regina loathed such intrusions, and he briefly considered going back to the mansion, before shaking his head and moving on.

The only thing worse than Granny would be David and Snow finding him, sweet smiles on their faces as if saying "we will always find you", which sounded every day more like a threat and less like a promise. Henry did not want to be found or monitored in every step he took; he wanted to be listened to, he wanted to be cared for, he wanted to be supported and loved. Henry wanted a family, a good one, and it looked like not one of the members in his had any real experience for them to provide Henry with it. It was exhausting even when they were not actively trying to murder each other or save someone from being murdered.

And so Henry kept walking through the small town, his old backpack firmly strapped, but unsure about his destination. His feet had carried him to the town hall, the route memorised in every muscle due to his mother, Regina, that is, taking him whenever she could. He always thought she did it to show him off, like a well-trained pony. He started refusing to go, refusing to spend time with his mother in public, and her smile vanished more with each "no" that came from his mouth. At some point, she stopped asking, he stopped refusing, and the smile did not return.

It is not that his mother never smiled, she did smile. She did it for him, always for him, and occasionally when Emma was around or Snow found herself in a tight spot. But it came off as guarded now, even pained at times. Hook's near-constant presence did not help her plight either. He knew the man had done some awful things and, while he could forgive his family for their wrong-doings because he knew them, what he read in Hook was not remorse. Hook was never evil, not in the traditional way, he did not actively want to create pain, with the notable exception of his fight with Gold. No, Hook only cared about his own benefit. What used to bring him gains was Cora, and so he aligned himself with Cora, but right now the Charmings and Emma presented themselves as the best choice. Henry had no doubt the pirate did not regret his past actions beyond the effects they could have on his own future, and so Henry had no doubt either that the man would jump the ship the moment it started to sink. What a captain.

Once upon a time, Henry was sure Emma would see that, having her superpower and all, but he soon realised the blonde was able to recognise lies but had never exactly succeeded when it came to asking the right questions. No lies had been then necessary for Hook to enter their lives, to become their ally and, if the pirate had his way, possibly more.

Regina, even powerless as she had been for a while, could see that. Henry knew this. It probably had to do with how many times she had been deceived without the need to lie and, although it was certainly selfish, Henry was sort of glad someone else stood by him in this matter. No one usually stood by him usually. In front of him, ready to stop or enact curses? Sure. By him? No one, not since Emma had started acting more like a parent and less like a friend.

It suddenly dawned on him how alone he was. He had not felt so hopeless in quite some time. In fact, the last time was just before finding Emma.

His mother had been in one of those moods, snapping at him for the simplest of things. She always got like that during that time of the year, but it had been particularly bad evening, the worst she had ever had.

It had all started because of the dumbest of things. They had been trying to choose a movie, but Regina had firmly opposed anything belonging to Disney, including Star Wars and Marvel movies. She did not even budge for the, admittedly awful, Batman & Robin, which A. Was not Marvel or any Disney franchise, and B. Featured Poison Ivy, who Regina had always had a soft spot for.

All she wanted to watch were movies where the heroes died, which, in hindsight, should have been a dead giveaway. Back then, Henry could have never imagined it, though, that the evil queen from the stories was his mother and, at the same time, was not his mother. Regina was never just that.

But Henry did not understand that when he wan to his school's playground, crying after Regina shouted at him for not accepting her "no!" as an answer one too many times. He did not know there were grey areas, that things rarely are as black or white as one first thinks, he did not know colours change their hue depending on the light they are hit with. He did not understand any of that when Mary Margaret found him and gave him a book filled with half-truths that placed his adoptive mother in the worst possible light.

He did not know, and so he just pushed past Regina, not bothered by her blood-shot puffy eyes or her reddened nose. He understood nothing, but he acted as if he did, and he unknowingly destroyed everyone's lives after reading his night away.

Breaking the curse had turned out to be a fate worse than the curse itself. Before they could no remember their unhappiness, they were blissfully ignorant. Now, now they had a new menace every other week and, although everyone always tried to keep him out of the loop to avoid worrying him, Henry was not dumb. He saw how it chipped their spirits, how his mom's eyes turned darker with every danger he was exposed to, how Emma carried the world on her shoulders, probably feeling like if she did not, it would come crashing down and take the lives of those she loved.

Guilt flashed in Emma's eyes with each new body found, he guessed it might have to do with her being The Saviour. He also saw that same guilt mix with relief every time she realised the victim was not a Charming, Henry himself or even Regina. She played favourites, and that weighed on her too.

He understood that guilt, he carried it too. He had started all of this and he held himself responsible for it. He had tried to tell Archie about it once, but when the terms "survivors' guilt" and "hero complex· had begun surfacing, he had gotten up and left. He doubted a diagnosis based on this land's understanding of psychology made by a cricket who had no studies was in any way valid or applicable to the affairs of magic. It had been no help, and so he started avoiding Archie.

Henry could admit to occasionally projecting, though, but that did not mean he needed a shrink. He did not need it the same way he did not need anyone in such a warm spring night. He now knew where to spend it too, and so he started walking again.

For all the trouble it was, Storybrooke had an undeniable charm. Maybe it was the influence of all the fairytales, maybe it was its quaint atmosphere, maybe it was part of the curse, but it did not matter. Henry knew the town as his home and, once he was able to let go of his Granny-induced paranoia, he felt calmer than he had been in forever. Alone, but calmed. There were no fairytale characters glaring at each other, trying to kill someone, throwing insults back and forth or even worse sometimes, pretending to be civil while the tense atmosphere kept reaching new heights with every passing second. They could feel it, but ignored it, probably thinking that way maybe Henry would not notice. But he did, Henry was not dumb, and it was infuriating people kept forgetting that.

More than once he had felt inclined to tell them to go eff themselves, but even the kid-friendly version of the f-bomb caused Regina to look at him in shock before promptly reprimanding him as if she had not done worse. When he had pointed that out, she had really flown off the handle. When his mom got like that, he could definitely understand how she had managed to terrify a whole realm. It had translated well into her mayor persona, but still. Scary.

He thought about Snow White, still Mary Margaret back then, walking around town every evening. The core of their personalities never left, even while cursed, he guessed.- That did leave the whole Lacey/Belle in a compromising position, though, but one he would rather not think about.- During 28 years, they had all been trapped in search for something they would never find. Even his mother had accidentally imprisoned herself too, but her proud personality had not allowed her to see it until much later. Even Emma who was not part of the curse was still somewhat trapped by it. Everything was supposed to be alright, but it was not, she was not entirely happy, she did not have a family yet, not really. He knew her patrols were really just Emma sneaking into Regina's backyard, sitting on the stairs, staring at the apple tree she had once put a chainsaw against. Maybe she hoped things would go back to those times, heavens know Henry and Regina undoubtedly did. They all had fought for things that were supposed to bring them happiness, but that promise had been scarcely delivered, if it had at all.

Snow, David, Emma, Regina... Even Rumplestiltskin, Belle, Cora, Hook? Robin? Where did Herny's family tree end, all things considered? God, yet another problem he would rather not think about. The point had nothing to do with that, anyway. The thing was that they were all so alike in their search, in their emotions, and yet no one listened to anyone's but their owns. No one cared. Henry was sick of it. 

_Well, that is not entirely true._ The voice in his head whispered as he entered the playhouse, getting comfortable by using his backpack as a makeshift pillow.

And, once he started thinking about it, the voice was right. He could indeed remember several times at which his mothers had genuinely cared for each other.

Regina, for instance, had unceremoniously dropped a cake on Emma's arms in the blonde's birthday, the younger woman still half-asleep and in her pyjamas when she opened the door to be greeted with such a gift.

"You remembered?" Emma had asked, she sounded almost starstruck.

"Of course I remembered, it was the day I cursed this whole town, Miss Swan. It is not like I have much of a choice about whether or not I remember." Regina had huffed. "Besides, I dread to think of what Snow might have tried to bake. The brat was practically the housewife of all seven dwarves and did not learn a single thing about moving in a kitchen, beats me how anyone could be so useless. Then again, your mother has always been incredibly adept at making me lower my expectations so much not even ants could play limbo with it, and yet she manages to make that seem like I am asking for the impossible."

Emma, for her part, probably caught the first four words and then got lost in the cake. The candles displayed her actual age, something even her parents had trouble due to all the curses and time-altering events, and her name had been written in red frosting, the hand-writing elegant, nothing like Emma's own disastrous attempts at italics. The top was white, adorned with small shiny red candy crystals forming a swan. It looked delicious and delicate and way beyond anything Emma would have expected. It made her want to cry, even if her silence obviously made Regina uncomfortable.

"It is red velvet." Regina had nodded, turning in her heels to leave just as she came, with no warning and no greeting. Emma watched her leave, heart on her throat, not quite ready to spill its contents yet, but close enough.

Henry had seen how much Emma cared for the cake, something they all knew would sooner rather than later disappear without a trace. She practically made it a photo op, refused to let anyone but herself carry it or cut it, and even went as far as granting herself a "you are being ridiculous" from the queen of corny gestures herself, Snow White, after the blonde refused to let anyone go for seconds, barring Henry and herself, of course.

Once they had been done with it, Emma had meticulously cleaned the candles and taken them somewhere. Henry had looked into every possible hiding spot he could think of, trying to come up with a place in which his mother might be keeping memorabilia, but came empty-handed. Again, her time in foster care proved to be useful, even if it did irk him to admit so. He did not enjoy the idea of his mothers keeping anything from him, even if he could understand they all had certain things they would rather keep to themselves.

Emma's gestures towards Regina were also meaningful, even if a tad misguided. For example, just last month she had made Regina's apple tree a wooden fence, murmuring something about constant danger, enemies and safety. Regina had smiled softly at her, grabbed her hands and brought her inside for some apple cider. Once the blonde had been done, the queen had harshly sent her back outside, alleging they had magic that rendered any fence useless and that, as she eloquently put it, the fence was simply hideous. Emma had then forcefully removed it, leaving behind a series of muddy holes circling the poor tree, smirk firmly in place. Regina had rolled her eyes and magicked the ground and grass back into perfection.

Emma had pouted, "party-pooer."

"Go shower, miss Swan, you reek." Had been Regina's answer, 

"You should also shower." Emma shrugged, "you reek too."

By then, Regina's cheeks had taken a pink hue that she would later swear was due to rage, "I will not do such thing! And I do not reek!"

Emma had laughed from the stairs, waiting for the former queen to catch up, "everyone smells awful at times."

"Well, I do not." Had been Regina's response, busying herself in finding the blonde a clean towel and a change of clothes she could use.

"What did you do? Magic Channel into your sweat?" There was silence. "Oh my god, you did! You have to teach me that spell, you vain witch!"

"It requires a lot of precision, which I do not think you will ever be capable of with your attention span lasting shorter than Henry's own."

Regina had then dropped the clothing and towel in Emma's arms, pushing her into the master bathroom, the one Henry was not allowed to use, before closing the door.

By the time the blonde went downstairs, Henry and Regina were in the kitchen, making popcorn. One thing had lead to the other and, before anyone was truly aware of what was happening, Henry found himself sitting on the couch, his birth mother shouting at the TV while she threw popcorn at it. Most surprisingly, Regina did not seem to care much for the mess their guest was making, chuckling instead at the younger woman's antics.

"Why did you pick him? Ariel would have done better! And I mean that as she would have done better still voiceless," she was telling the TV, a singing show playing, "Oh, come on! Her _toxic_ reedition was on point! You cannot throw her to the curve now, not for deaf guy at least!"

Before she could grab more popcorn, Regina had intervened and taken the bowl away from her, placing it instead in Henry's lap. Emma was too concentrated to even care.

"That song wasn't even _Toxic_," Henry had whispered to his adoptive mother.

"I think she is past caring, dear" had been her answer, plucking one popcorn into her mouth as she finished the sentence.

And so Henry had sat on the couch, his mothers surrounding him, popcorn littering the floor. His heart and head had been calm at last that evening. Now, however, as he laid inside the toy castle, all he could feel how cold his chest had grown, how the anxiety kept creeping up on him at almost every turn.

Still, Henry was exhausted, and it did not take long for him to fall into a deep slumber. One of his last thoughts, before he did, was a wish. He wished for that warmth to return to his heart, to fill him and his relatives like only true love can.

No, what Henry had left behind was not a family, but he knew they were capable of creating one.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at rocking-my-socks.tumblr.com


End file.
